


LoveFlies

by Killerqueen15



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Broken Draco Malfoy, Butterflies, Cruciatus, Depressed Draco Malfoy, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Insults, M/M, Magical Creatures, Memories, Not Epilogue Compliant, Pining, Tension, eighth year, getting over animosity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:59:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killerqueen15/pseuds/Killerqueen15
Summary: The war has ended and the previous seventh year’s have been called back to complete their NEWTS by new headmistress, Professor McGonagall. Draco discovers an unusual creature when he and Potter find themselves in detention. Why, at first, can only Draco see them?





	1. Detention

**Author's Note:**

> It’s a bit rough and it’s an old story of mine I left behind but decided to bring it back.

“Some people need a high five... in the face... with a chair. What me to do it?” Potter egged on.

“What language are you speaking? Cause it sounds like bullshit.” Draco replied with what he hoped was a very nasty smirk. 

“Well I could agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong. What a shame,” Potter laughed with a husk in his voice and sat down on the chair across Draco’s table. The library was quite empty and that’s how Draco liked it. Nobody comes here on a Saturday night, as an eighth year he was pretty much alone apart from Pansy and Blaise. Yet even after defeating the Dark Lord, Harry Potter still felt the need to play banter and insults with his school rival. Draco retaliated back, of course. 

“I feel my personality turning a dull shade of grey when I talk to you.” Draco said sharply and flicked the page of his book.

“You do realise makeup isn’t going to fix your stupidity?” Draco scowled when Potter pointed to his face. Draco felt a bit hurt by this. He had come to express himself and wore eyeliner and mascara. He felt more confident. Draco put down his heavy book and dipped his quill in ink. 

“If you had half a brain, Potter, you’d know I’m not stupid. I’m busy, you’re ugly, have a bad day.” Draco ignored the Gryffindor’s arrogant head still sitting across from his.

“You’re so fake, Barbie is jealous.” He grinned. That wasn’t a good insult. Who was Barbie? Draco pressed so hard with his quill, he put a hole in the parchment. He looked up and stared at Potter. “Merlin, you do know who Barbie is?” Potter questioned and put his elbows on the table. 

Draco went back to working for two more minutes, before blandly being interrupted for the trillionth time. Who ever this muggle Barbie was, Draco honestly did not know, nor care.

“Gosh, Malfoy. Educate yourself. I’m sure you and her would get along nicely.” Potter laughed.

See, if you hadn’t realised yet, this was very much so a thing now. It was their thing. Each time they passed, they stopped to insult each other. They came up with insult after insult in spite to get a rise out of each other. It was their thing, and everyone knew it. Yes they were mature — thank you very much.

“Whoever told you to be yourself simply couldn’t have given you worse advice.” Draco said casually. Their fighting consisted of mocking their intelligence. Draco knew he was smart, he was the smartest between the two, and the second most intelligent in his grade. He secretly admired Granger only a little, she was the top of the class. 

“Coccydynia.” Potter muttered and stood up abruptly from the table. He sneered almost Slytherin like and huffed out of the library table area. 

“Potter.” He called. He answered when he saw the Gryffindor turn slowly, his face red with anger. “What’s a coccydynia?”

“A pain in the butt. You’re a pain in the butt, Malfoy.”

It wasn’t harmful, truely. This had been going on since the start of eighth year when new Headmistress McGonagall asked the previous seventh years if they’d wish to return to finish their N.E.W.T.S. Draco, wanting his profession to be a healer, needed to do so, even if he didn’t want to. Potter, well Draco wasn’t sure why Potter had come back. Who knew what his plans were.

Draco continued to study. He hoped next time he ran into Potter he had a very good memory of new insults he could throw his way.

* * *

“Everyone’s entitled to act stupid once in awhile, but you really abuse the privilege.” Draco snorted and adjusted his Slytherin robes. They had just come out of potions with Professor Mercury and Potter had somehow made the ridiculous mistake to quite literally blow his cauldron up. Potter was covered in soot and dirt, his Gryffindor robes were a mangy grey and the debris in his untamed hair made him look like an old man. He put a hand through it and ruffled it. Draco whipped back from the movement as soot went everywhere. 

“God, Potter. Have some fucking sense. You’re getting dirt all over me.” Draco scowled, Potter of course laughed dryly. 

“I can’t help imagining how much awesome the world would be if your dad has just pulled out.” Potter stood in front of Draco and pushed his shoulder. Draco really hated these meetings and they somehow coincidentally happened all the time.

“Don’t talk about my father. You git.” Draco pushed back. Once again, Potter struck a sensitive nerve of Draco’s. Yes he hated his father, but no one insults the family name. 

Harry smiled sweetly, with a wicked look firing from his eyes. “I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m guessing it’s hard to pronounce?”

“I’m trying my absolute hardest to see things from your perspective, but — damnit.” Draco fling his arms in desperation. “I just can’t get my head that far up my arse.” 

That’s when Potter lost it, he flung the first throw. His knuckles collided with Draco’s jaw once, twice and the other side for the third. Draco spat blood in the floor and lunged at his enemy. He tackled him until Potter was pinned under Draco’s hands. Potter writhed beneath him, I’m escape to get out.

“Get off me!” Potter shouted and Draco covered his mouth. He was having too much fun, really. His jaw stung and he felt a bruise forming, he loosened his grip and Potter saw this as an advantage. Potter pushed him roughly and rolled them over, he grasped Draco’s neck and tightened his grip.

“You g-git. I c-can’t breathe.” Draco’s throat dried and he couldn’t feel any air to breathe in. 

“Mister Malfoy, Mr Potter. What is going on here?” Professor Mercury had come back into his room, probably forgetting something. The boys froze and turned to their teacher, Potter let go and Draco pushed him off and stood up. He straightened his robes and lifted is chin with dignity.

“Malfoy started it.”

“Did not.”

“Did so. You spoke to me first.” 

“You punched me first.”

“Boys, boys!” The professor interrupted them, obviously annoyed. “Detention each day after class for the week. I’d like to see you try to be civil. Get out of my classroom and into your dorms before I take 50 points away from each of your houses.”

Draco’s mouth gaped and Potter huffed, slinging his bag over his shoulder and strutting away like a ponce. 

* * * 

“Merlin, Draco. Does it hurt?” Pansy cupped his jaw lightly and took her wand out. The bruises went away in an instant and he groaned at the feeling.

“A little yes, thank you.” Draco fell back onto his bed with a sigh.

“I don’t see why you still fight. Everything is over. Even Pans and I don’t bother him. Draco, maybe it’s time you turn away from your animosity and let it go.” Blaise called from his bed. Pansy nodded and gave a sympathetic look.

The fighting was exhausting, but exhilarating in a sense. However, he could not let Potter win, he just couldn’t. Each day he planned out insults and comebacks so he had a fresh one to spit at his opponent. It was a challenge, and he couldn’t back out. There was no way of getting rid of their animosity and trying to become civil with one another. Draco wasn’t going to let Potter’s personal affronts and slander get to him.

“No. I’m not losing.”

“You aren’t losing anything, Drake!” Pansy called. If only she knew.

“I’m going for a shower.” He called and slammed the door behind him after grabbing his towel. He knew he was being dramatic, he also knew this once that his friends were very, very wrong.

* *  
“I’m trusting you to both keep your wits to yourself. Not snarky remarks and no touching.” Professor Mercury growled. He was a good teacher, but he had anger issues.

Draco sat in the middle of the empty room, Potter at the very back and to the right. Draco could hear the boy shuffling around. It agitated him so he turned and glared. Potter got caught by surprise as he had already been looking at Draco. He scowled with the look that Draco was so used to and Draco turned back and took how some homework. An hour of silence and quiet breathing pasted, and Draco didn’t dare move his head to look in Potter’s direction.

“Since you’ve calmed yourselves, I have other work to do. The door will be locked and if you try to open it, I will know. The charms have sensors and you will get a longer detention if you do try. You have 2 more hours. I suggest you do your potions homework too.” He nodded and walked out the door. 

“Malf-“

“Shut it Potter, I don’t want to hear your ridiculous voice anymore. I’m quite sick of it actually. So if you’d shut up, I think it would benefit the both of us.”

“Some day you’ll go far away— and I really hope you stay there.” Potter muttered but it was clear enough that the blonde could hear him.

“You are such a daft whiffle-whaffle.” Draco’s eyes narrowed to see easier. “What is that?” Draco asked and turned to look at Potter. He muttered a ‘what’, not caring what the hell he was talking about. There was a illuminating light coming from somewhere behind the desk on the floor, it was blue and light was seeping out of it. 

“That. Right there!” Draco shouted. Potter looked up and followed the direction of Draco’s finger, there was... nothing.

“You’ve gone full crazy, Malfoy. There’s nothing there.” Potter pushed his chair back and walked clumsily over to where he pointed. He lifted his arms up, “See?” Draco’s face goes red in anger and he straightened up.

“No. You git, in here.” Draco stood up rather abruptly, pushing his chair out with an obnoxious squeaking sound and walked past Potter, their shoulders nudged and Draco scowled, he obviously did that to piss him off. Draco walked to a bag that resembled a potato sack that looked like what Dobby used to wear. He opened it up and his eyes lit up an an expression of excitement, he lifted his hand; the other holding the bag open, and swayed it softly in the air. Bright blue lights escaped and twinkled softly around him. Potter failed to stifle a laugh. 

“Why on earth are you waving your hand around at nothing.” Draco’s face deepened and he looked down, snapping out of his weird, happy glow. 

“You can’t seem them?” He asked. 

“Them? No, I cannot.” He looks up seamlessly at the air. “I see strange outlines of moving things yet they are completely invisible.” Draco thought it’d take a wild imagination for Potter to come up with what phenomenon he was witnessing.

“They are like lightbulbs, really, bright shining light blue butterflies. Except their wings are in the shape of...” he put his finger out for a couple of seconds and grinned, “love hearts.” Potter stood there and crossed his arms. One blue butterfly had landed on his finger, their bright wings flapped slowly. Each side was half a heart, and when they opened they created a full heart.

“Crazy, Malfoy. Full on crazy.”

“Are you in love?” Draco takes his gaze away from the thing resting on his hand. Potter can almost see the reflection of blue light in his eyes...

“What? No... I was, I think. If I was I’m not now.” His voice trailed off. Stupid Draco, asking stupid things. He didn’t want to be here right now, he felt queasy and felt waves of electricity run through his body. 

“Oh.”

“Hm?” He questioned, curious to what Draco’s conclusion was.

“I was thinking because they are love shaped you might only see them if you love someone or are in love.” 

“And you are?” Draco sighed.

“No. Holy! Merlin did you see what just happened—“ The whole scenery changed. The once blue flying insects turned a glowing purple in the blink of an eye. It was beautiful. Draco frowned at him but then he found himself smiling in a.. nice way. “You, your...” He struggled. “You beautiful piece of shi— your hair looks nice today I like it when it’s ruffled.” He clamped his mouth shut before he could ramble out more words. 

That’s not what Draco wanted to say, he wanted insult Potter until he lost his wits. However, he felt compelled and forced to say things he would never say. His mouth seemed to want to open but Draco kept it shut. It was painful, putting force against your jaw. He knew his mouth wanted to say something ridiculous, it was a feeling. 

Potter stared at him with a questioning look. He ruffled a hair through his hands uncomfortably, placing it behind his ears. “Okay, look this is getting weird.” He put his hand out to stop the Slytherin in front of him.

“Your eyes are gorgeously green. Green’s my favourite colour, not Slytherin green but I don’t mind it. It’s emerald green, just like your eyes. You’d look really nice with some eyeliner on, you know. Though, maybe that’s not the way you swing. I know a lot about makeup. Pansy’s really into it so she helped me and I have no idea what’s going right now and I can’t say mean things to you, so, I’m going to put these butterflies back in before I say something completely stupid.” Draco thought he already did. He spoke so fast he didn’t have a chance to breathe so he huffed and jumped up. Seemingly collecting the so called butterflies back into the sack. 

Draco neatly placed them back where they were. In the antique ruins of behind the teachers rustic desk. 

“I meant none of that. They butterflies made me do it.” And Potter laughs. He laughs until his stomach hurts. What potions is this Slytherin on?

“Hah, sure. Would you like to tell me why the butterflies made you do it?” Potter and his annoying mouth smirked.

“They were really cool, honestly. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced. They like sparkled and-“

“Get on with it.”

“After you asked me about the love thing, they turned a purple, like lilac. They glowed even brighter.” He stared in disbelief. Was he overreacting? It wasn’t uncommon for the Wizarding World to experience a strange animal of creature. Not at Hogwarts— hell, they had a bloody giant squid for heavens sake. Not to mention thestrals, which you could only see if you had witnessed a death. But this was something new. They were quite cool. Draco tried to hide how strangely content he was, so he walked back to his desk in the middle arms sat down. 

“Is that it? You’re not going to mention the fact that you told me I had gorgeously green eyes and that you actually like my hair?”

“I didn’t mean it! Whatever I said, they made me say it. I felt bizarrely content. I felt compelled to compliment . It was like I was forced to say something nice,” he shuttered. “The butterflies seem, what’s the word?”

“Enchanted? Enhanced?” Potter suggested. Still standing there and pointing at the bag. “I wish I could see them. Was it only when they turned purple that you felt weird?”

“Yeah. Do you think it had something to do with the love hearts on the butterflies?”

“Maybe.” Potter said. 

That’s when it hit Draco, he was having a normal conversation with Potter. He had let his walls crack just a little. He could not do that, and he wouldn’t. After the war, he broke off from letting his emotions get to him. What happened the last time he let himself cry and expressed how he was feeling? His father beat him, he was hit with sectumsempra, Voldemort tortured him and he lost one of his best friends in a fire. The only vulnerability he showed was to his mother, Pansy and Blaise. Yet sometimes he didn’t feel like talking to him. He didn’t like to talk about feelings, his father brought him up with poise and stern behaviour. Now his father lay in his cells of Azkaban, he felt a little safer, his father was not there to whack his lower back when he made a whimper. His father was not strict and ridiculously abusive when Draco stuttered his words in fear in front of the Dark Lord. His father was not there screaming at him not to be a little boy when the Dark Lord struck him with a Cruciatus Curse. 

He was depressed, as sad as it was. Fighting and insulting a specific Gryffindor, not like he would ever admit it, but it gave him energy. Potter and he had been in this big fight, over nothing really from the start of eighth year. He knew Potter saved Hogwarts and the Wizarding World around him, that wasn’t a reason to drop everything and call him his hero. Draco hated Potter.


	2. Not in a bad way...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They’re purple again. Just wait— Oh no,” Draco felt his jaw tighten, not again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of Draco trying to keep his shit together.
> 
> It’s so short I know I’m sorry,  
> Next chapter is interesting though ;))

“Why do you wear makeup?” Potter asked on the Tuesday, it was the second day of Detention and there was no progress, except the fact that the potions professor left the room a bit earlier, unknowingly giving the teenage Gryffindor and Slytherin more time to mock each other.

“Because I like it. Now I’ve answered your question, be quiet. Unlike you, I want to finish my potions assignment and get a good grade.” Draco turned his shoulder dramatically and worked on his paper. 

“Smart arse.”

“Pillock.”

“Get the fly things out again.” Potter sounded of demand, if Draco was honest, he had forgotten all about the glowing creatures. He made a mental note to go to the library and look for them, maybe he could find out what they really were. 

“Why?” Draco questioned. Why would Potter even care to see them? Didn't he have his own problems to deal with. What about essays? That should keep him busy.

“I want to know if I can see them now. Why do I have to sit here and stare at nothing when you get to look at them. Why are they invisible to me and not bloody you?” He huffed, obviously annoyed.

“Fine.” He stalked over to the bag. Light seeped from the thread seams and when he rolled the bag, the escaping beams of light danced around the room. It was exhilarating, he felt his chest clamp up but not with stress like normal, but with content. Harry cleared his throat and Draco snapped to reality, he had been moving the bag around without thinking.

“Sod off it,” Draco turned his shoulder and scowled, when he saw Potter looking smugly at him. He noticed the small things, how Potter put his hand on one hip and his lips twitched slightly. His eyebrows creased together, but it was his hair most of all. Just look how messy it was!

Draco summoned courage out of nothing and took a breath. He opened it and the butterflies were realised, they fluttered freely but kept in the distance of Draco’s touch. He lifted his arms out and held them still. Some landed along his arms making them shine a bright blue and some fluttered around him, leaving a small trail of shimmer. Potter watched confusingly,. Draco laughed to himself as he moved his arms up and the butterflies set flight once again. Draco gasped as they flew over to Potter and flew around him, flapping their wings and behind them now followed a clear, bright trail of light behind them. They quickened their movement and Potter was glowing. Potter looked around them. “What’s going on?”

“They are circling you. Merlin’s balls! Holy cra—“ Draco gasped and the light changed from blue to lilac once again. They created an aurora of colour that glowed of purples and blues, it was the most beautiful thing Draco had even seen, but it was around Potter. They stayed purple and the glowing lines that encircled the Gryffindor slowly disappeared and left Potter standing there cluelessly.

“Are they?” Potter asked with a frown and looked around them. “C’mon? Let me see them!” Potter stomped his foot in anger like a child.

“They’re purple again. Just wait— Oh no,” Draco felt his jaw tighten, not again. No, no no no no. Not this again. Why did he have to get out the stupid, stupid butterflies? He was going to start saying nice things.

“What? Malfoy, what’s happening?” Draco gritted his teeth together. He could feel his jaw muscles hurting already, he would not let anything slip this time. No matter what these gorgeous, manipulating butterflies were doing. The only feeling of angst left in him was around his clenched mouth, everywhere was once again: calm. Except for the racing of Draco’s thoughts and execrated heart rate. It had nothing to do with Potter, he was just surrounded by the creatures. Draco blamed the butterflies for anything not rude that came out of his mouth towards the black haired git. 

Draco’s voice rambled on and he found himself spilling random words. “They are normal now, just flying. God, Potter, do you ever fold your robes? They’re all crinkled and your untamed hair paired with it, you look like you’ve just been shagged.” Draco’s eyes widened and Potter emitted an all embarrassed blush, he shifting his feet awkwardly. “Not in a bad way... Not in a good way either. How do I make them stop? I’m just saying random things now, trying not think about the fact that you look really hot today and I’ve always been jealous of you in every single way since the war has ended.” Draco put his to his chest and breathed heavily, he’d just spoken a million miles a seconds.

“You are. Why?”

“You look happy.” 

“Oh.”

Draco frowned and pulled the butterflies back into the bag where they rested peacefully and turned back to blue. Draco stood back up and lifted his chin after stumbling a bit. How embarrassing.

“Do you mean the stuff you say? Like, does it force you to say the truth?”

“Please, Potter. You wish. Besides, do you really believe that I think you look like you’ve been shagged in a good way? Because I don’t.” Draco spat.

“Oh.” They moved silently back their desks. They mentally prayed when seconds went by and Professor Mercury decided to walk back in, pronouncing he had left some papers in there. He also stated there was a half hour left. After punching and strangling someone, 3 hours after class time seems kind of reasonable.

“You said I looked happy.” Potter called.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why.”

“Because the fucking butterflies forced me.”

“But do you?

Draco hesitated but shrugged.“Yes.” Potter wouldn’t run and spill whatever Draco said, would he?

“Why?” 

“How do I explain why you look happy, you just do. You and your bloody Gryffindors having a good laugh while Slytherin next to you is almost dead with emotion because most of their parents and them themselves, were sent to Azkaban, or bloody dead for all I know it. I’m not going to go on about how many Slytherins were killed because I know people from other houses did. However, if you’d care to notice, it’s really fucking depressing when everyone hates you, yet you always believed you were on the wrong side of the war.”

“So. If you don’t think I have gorgeously green eyes and look like I’ve been shagged all the time. What do you think of me, Malfoy?” Potter tried to lighten the mood. Draco wasn’t facing him, that would have left him to vulnerable and he didn’t like eye contact. 

“I believe you’re an unconscionably bantering heathen, and a ridiculous, illiterate ignoramus. But Im jealous of you.” Draco silently praised himself with his use of big words.

“Oh.” Potter scratched his head. Draco found audacity inside himself to turn. 

“Blaise and Pansy suggested a funny idea on Sunday, after you punched me three times. Also, after you strangled me.”

“Yes, I get it. Continue,” Potter’s nostrils flared slightly.

“What did he say again? Oh, yes.” Draco cleared his throat and put on a deep voice with his hands on his hips. If a muggle today would see this, it would remind them of the mocking sponge-bob meme, it was a little funny . “‘I don’t see why you still fight. Everything is over. Even Pans and I don’t bother him. Draco, maybe it’s time you turn away from your animosity and let it go.’ Hah, like that would ever happen—“

“It’s not a bad idea.” He said seriously. Did Potter want to be friends? No, he’s just being chivalrous and a bloody pity giver.

“What? Are you serious. God, I don’t need pity from a stupid, noble Gryffindor.”

“It’s not pity. It’s called we’ll stop insulting each other and use actual words. I’ve only really realised it now after this.” He said emphasising the ‘really’. “Why do we keep insulting each other? What’s it doing? Nothing if I’m quite certain. There’s no reason to be angry at each other anymore if we just—“

“That’s ridiculous.” After Draco spoke, Professor Mercury ran into the classroom quickly. 

“Sorry, boys. I was talking with a Professor. You’re detention is done for today, on with it you go.” He waved and walked to his desk. The classroom was not the dungeons potion class but a regular, old one. One that hadn’t been burned in the war.

Draco left quietly and Potter followed shortly behind. Draco made it to his dormitory and thought about it all night. How Potter was so quick to agree with what his friends had said. How quick Potter was to get over everything they had been through and let it go. Draco thought maybe he could give it a shot, but he was not to back down from this challenge they had unconsciously started. If it couldn’t be insults, he thought banter was better than nothing. He wondered how HE had come so quick to decide to, maybe it was in him all along. Draco fell asleep quickly, thoughts of Potter and what he was going to do tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one will be up as soon as I can update.  
> Jaz x


	3. Old Habits for New Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ummmm not good with Summaries,   
> Pansy being a FANTASTIC friend and Draco and Harry have a heart-to-heart.  
> we also learn more about Professor Mercury

Draco woke up in a terrible mood, the weather was starting to cool and everyone seemed in a better mood, which made it even more worse. He felt restless, like he couldn’t do anything. This was common so when Draco had received a bad nights sleep, he took it and told his bed to fuck right off.

“Finally. Salazar’s dick, it’s taken you quite a long time,” quipped Pansy as she bit down on her whole sausage.

“Don’t ever,” Draco raised his eyebrows, “say Salazar’s dick as you eat a sausage.” Blaise and pansy broke into chuckles and soon they were crying of laughter. Draco sat their and muttered profs tied to his eggs,

“Okay, okay.” Blaise started. “What’d he say again?” Draco has told them what had happened with Potter in yesterday’s detention, apart from the butterflies, that was his own secret thing he discovered. 

Draco praised his memory to remember everything anyone had ever said to him, “he said it wasn’t pity but it would be to stop insulting each other and use actual words. He’d only realised now after the idea was said— I had repeated what Blaise had told me about animosity and what not— and he said ‘why do we keep insulting each other? What’s it doing? Nothing if I’m quite certain.’ Draco sighed, “maybe... maybe there’s no reason to be angry at each other anymore.” 

Pansy clapped slowly and loudly. “Look who realised what was so bluntly obvious in front of everyone. When shall you claim this friendship? Hm?” She asked like she was talking to a five year old,

“I don’t know, probably never,” Draco moved his plate away when he had finished his eggs and toast. 

“Draco,” Pansy warned.

“Maybe after detention,” he muttered back. Lack of sleep, from THEM, it shouldn’t affect him like this. Not after SO long, 

However, Pansy had a better idea. She wore a smug smirk and stood up proudly. “Potter!” she bellowed, Potter broke away from his conversation at the next table and looked up confused. He saw Pansy and his right eyebrow drew up in interest.

“Um... yes?” he looked around. Draco put his forehead in his hand as everyone was staring at Pansy, most likely eager to hear the conversation and gossip about the rivals later. 

“Draco here,” Draco sighed, “would like to accept your hand in friendship and look away from the...” she turned and smirked at Draco. He felt his stomach coil, “insults and animosity.” She bowed and sat down. Then, it started. The hall erupted into chatter and whispers, looking back from the green and scarlet tables. This was mayhem. Draco slapped her arm repeatedly until she scowled and grabbed Draco’s hand sharply and pushed it away. “I did you a favour. Look, you royal arse.”

She looked in the direction she was looking. He was shocked, delighted and down right confused when Potter sat with a goofy grin and waved. Draco was about to apologise before he waved back until his hand stopped and his heart thumped. Potter’s gaze stayed on Draco as his hands moved and formed two wings, he flapped them into the space above him and pointed out the door. The butterflies. Draco nodded tiredly and bid his goodbyes to Pansy and Blaise and stalked out of the room. He fell into an instinctive path, walking to the detention classroom. 

Draco passed a mirror on his way there, he had never seen it before. It must of been a new instalment. He looked at himself and sighed. His hair had gone to a slight wave, the back curling at his neck. His skin was deadly pale, translucent and almost glasslike. Under his eyes were swollen with purple and indications of lack of sleep. Even after what seemed like so much time, they still occurred. He wasn’t as normal as he thought. He bared the sight and continued to walk down the corridor. 

Potter came in two minutes later and Draco paced back and forth until he arrived. The door loudly swung upon and banged behind them, Potter stood there and breathed as if he had ran the whole way there.

“I saw them!” Potter breathed excitedly. He put his hands to his hair and smiled, he ruffled it and walked to Draco’s position. “Early this morning, around 3-4am I couldn’t sleep so I came down here and opened the bag because it was shining weirdly. I was thinking about them so I came, and I opened them up. They were only faint, I’m sure what I’m see would be completely dull compared to yours but, I dunno, they are so beautiful. I saw them for two whole minutes before they disappeared. They didn’t turn purple or start a weird circle thing but it was, wow. They looked like normal butterflies with a little light trail they left behind... is that what you see?”

“To me, they are are ten times as bright as a candle, sometimes it hurts to stare at them too long. They are really strong. Why do you think they only turn purple when I do them?” Draco asked, interested in why Potter had suddenly started seeing them.

“Dunno.” Potter slumped.

“Potter...” Draco thought.

“Harry.” Potter responded, correcting Draco’s use of last name.

“No.”

“Okay,” Harry accepted. 

Yes, they were acquainted now but not enough to call him Harry. Draco thought about it, about Harry and calling him by his name. It didn’t seem right, he had called Potter by his last name for nearly eight years now. When he thought of him he called him Potter, why should it change?

“I shall call you Draco.”

“Okay.” Draco repeated.

“Draco.” Potter called for his attention. Draco snapped his drooped, thinking head to the Gryffindor boy.

“Yes?” Potter did not respond but reached for the bag. 

“I want to try something, I have a theory but I’m not saying it yet because it sounds completely idiotic and too far of a reach to be true but,” he pushed up his glasses and unraveled the dirt stained bag, “I want you to try and say rude things to me.” Draco paused, was he serious?

“Have you forgotten about yesterday and this morning. That was that was the whole point of befriending each other. No more rude things, I’m quite sick of them to be honest.”

“I know, I know. It’s just to prove something. Okay, I will open them and try and make fun of me.” They took a breath and Draco calmed the raced heart he didn’t know was besting so fast. He only had to act like he had since Potter rejected his friendship in first year. Potter released the creature flies and they flapped around them, keeping in close distance. 

“Potter, you are an insufferable, arrogant—“ the butterflies flicked to purple, “heroic, sexy bloke. No, that is not what I mean. That’s exactly what I meant. Your glasses look so worn down— and frame your face magnificently. I think you have a stunning personality— Fuck me.” Draco growls and stops, he gestured his hand to give Potter a go. 

“But they aren’t purple.”

“Is that a part of this so called theory?” Why could Potter not tell him what he thought it was about? Was it that absurd that Potter would be embarrassed to share it with him? Probably.

“I think so.” Potter looked around scratched his head. 

“Give it a go anyway,” Draco found himself speaking too softly. Potter’s gaze landed on Draco. Time seemed to stop and the lilac butterflies slowed down, the room seemed to darken and the butterflies grew brighter, leaving a trail of twinkling light behind them. Draco looked at Potter’s eyes and they reflected a beautiful colour of mixed green and purples, he didn’t realise as he stared at Potter that he was looking right back. They remained in a deep eye contact and Potter emitted a blush on his cheeks.

Draco was the first to look away but Potter didn’t seem to notice. “I might be right about my theory, but there’s something missing, anyway. I know it’s the makeup but I also know it’s not, you look way more colourful and lively. You have colour back in you. The past two years you’ve looked grey, sick and ill, like you’d hadn’t eaten a meal in a week and now you seem better. It makes me really happy.” Potter showed a toothy grin, not caring to look around at the beautiful, shimmering insects. 

He thought about it for a second. He didn’t realise Potter would care to notice of him like that. It was funny, now he was realising. You truely never know sometimes back sorry, you truely can’t get into someone’s head and thoughts in everything they do. While to Potter he may look better, he still suffered from the horror of looking at the faded dark mark that inked is left forearm. He still remembers everything, it’s why he stays up at night. Draco would rather not sleep then dream of the war and everything he lost.

Dazed, he snapped out of it and scowled himself for overthinking once again.

Draco snorted in embarrassment, for him and for Potter. “You didn’t even try to insult me.” Draco looked down and crossed his foot over the other and did it repeatedly, finding any way to distract himself. They way Potter had said it was if he had meant it. Draco had more colour but he wasn’t more lively. 

“I couldn’t,” Potter shrugged, still grinning like a maniac. “Maybe you are better at controlling it.”

“Controlling what?” asked Draco.

“The butterflies. By the way, they are purple for me too now,”

“I wonder,” 

“Yeah.” The bell signified first lesson, conveniently they were in the exact classroom they were supposed to be in. “Did you eat?”

“Yes.”

“Did you want to maybe... sit together this lesson? Get used to this?” Potter gestured towards himself and Draco. He raised an eyebrow and Draco rolled his eyes and took a seat closest to the back. Gryffindors and Slynterins quickly filed into the room as Weasley and Granger passed. They stopped at the table Potter was sat and Granger had an anxious face set upon her. Ron looked mildly confused and leaned in.

“Um you’re sitting with Malfoy now?” Weasley peered at them. 

Potter crossed his arms and learnt on the desk, “I suppose so.” Weasley smirked a little, wink and dragged Hermione away by the hand. Potter turned back to Draco with a tint of pink on his ears. 

“What did he wink for?” 

“Ron and I always sit together in this class so ‘Mione has to work with Neville or one of the twins. They haven’t spent that much time together since before term. Hermione went to track down her parents in Australia in hope to restore their memories. She insisted Ron didn’t go,” Potter shrugged.

“Why did she not want him to go?” Draco asked. Curiosity was a wild thing, maybe he just liked listening to Potter talk.

“She was distraught over it, ‘think she just wanted to do it herself. I think he’s glad we sat together, so they can. You know?”

Malfoy hummed a soft sigh of agreement. They didn’t talk about anything after that. Apart from when they were to make a Draught of the Living Dead, which they made in sixth year. Draco was surprised when he found out that Potter actually knew what he was doing. The only words spoken between them was Draco asking Harry to pass the ingredients up. 

Potter caught on with the laughter when Seamus blew up his and Dean’s cauldron. He told Draco that the time before detention, he was partnered with Seamus so that’s why he was covered in soot. Draco nearly found himself chuckling along with his words. Class finished off with a pleased Professor Mercury.

***

They didn’t talk until the afternoon detention, Draco was still getting used to it. After lunch he passed Granger and Weasley holding hands, Potter no where in sight. When they saw Draco they nodded with small smiles on their faces. Draco froze for one second before curtly nodding and rushing along. Too much, in the span of three days?

Draco walked tiredly to the potions classroom and pulled the handle down, it was locked. Draco thought of casting a quick ‘alohamora’ but heard voices inside, so he propped his ear up to the slit in the door. He didn’t even have time to think, ‘God Draco, you’re a wizard for Merlin’s sake.’

“I died... but... then-“ Draco moved his hair away and focused upon the door. “Would you have preferred to work in the old potions classroom in the dungeons, Sir?” A voice asked to what he believed would have been Professor Mercury.

A muffled voice followed and Draco learned as close as he could. “...I just feel like I’d be intruding, it was like his room.”

“I understand,” Draco realised was Potter’s calm voice on the other side of the conversation. He seemed to be talking deeply with the professor, he wondered if Potter talked about these things to everyone. How could he? Did he not feel a sudden stab in his chest as memories flashed back at him?

“Did you— sorry for asking Sir— lose anyone, during the war? I just wondered as you weren’t teaching here at the time and most casualties were here.” Potter spoke. Draco wondered how close Potter was to all the professor’s as he talked to them so personally.

“Yes ah, I lost my wife. She was pregnant with our first born. A girl, she would be named Euphemia. I lost all a lot of myself when she passed.”

“I’m sorry Professor,” there was a short silence before Potter spoke again, “I believe that was my grandmother’s name.” Draco moved his head away and sighed, he wiped the drop of sweat that beaded on his forehead. He decided to knock on the door, seconds later Professor Mercury was there holding it open for him, slightly red and tear-eyed. 

“Ah, Draco Malfoy. Right in time for your detention, eh? I must be on my way now, things to do.” He swept past quickly and his robes cascaded behind, just like Snape’s. Professor Mercury was in his forties, he WAS attractive Draco would admit. Draco had only known him as long as those terrible white scars laid across his nose like chalk against his tan skin, like THEY had made him suffer with some sort of muzzle contraption. 

Draco felt a flushed wave of anger and sorrow. “You’ve got him telling you all these personal things, you don’t think it hurts him to say them?” Draco snapped walking into the room where Potter sat with his head down on the desk. He looked up and his eyes were puffed and purple. Draco studied his face and looked down, “sorry for yelling.”

“I get it, habit.”

“An old one for new reasons, I guess. You alright?”

Potter looked completely spent but sat up and rubbed his eyes, “yeah.” Draco nodded and looked away, he sat in the seat next to Potter.

“You said you had died,” Draco wondered aloud, voice spaced and tired. Draco stared in front of him blankly. 

“I did.” 

“But you didn’t. My mother told me; you were alive in the forest,” Draco said, his mind wandered to parts of the war, memories separated and cut off with a flash of white before going onto the next. 

“I came back. I was... I guess, given the option to. It’s hard to explain. But no, I died.” Draco felt heat rise to his cheeks as his mind to him to where his weak shouts of “Potter!” where hidden amongst yells as Hagrid carried Harry’s so-called dead body back to the courtyard. 

“How doesn’t everyone know about this?” 

Potter’s voice was quiet, but so loud in his head as it was the only thing Draco allowed himself to focus on. “Well, I’m not exactly going to run to the Prophet about it, and everyone who was there knew I’d given myself up to Voldemort without fighting— I,” his voice cracked, “I announced that part in the middle of the hall.”

“So, you actually died.” Draco spoke in an unknown tone, he rubbed his mouth with his school jumper. 

“Yeah, sort of.”

“Do Granger and Weasley know?”

“Of course.”

“Of course.” Draco echoed. He finally snapped out of his trance and moved his head to look at Potter. His eyes gleamed with sadness and understanding. “But they weren’t there with you...”

“No.”

“You were by yourself, mother told me. Hm, I guess I talk to her more than I realise.”

“Sort of,” Potter spike again.

“What do you mean by that? ‘Sort of?’”

Yes fighting was exhilarating as he used to say, but Draco’s heart was beating even faster with just as something simple as talking.

“It’s hard to explain.” Draco nodded and watched Potter fiddle with a string that frayed from his jumper. He had grown taller over the summer and Draco never realised until now. They sat there, in a comfortable quietness that summoned over a meaningful conversation They both ignored the beaming blue light that shone in the corner of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel about this chapter, I feel it doesn’t go too far in Draco’s memories or feelings but oh well. Leave a Kudos if you liked it <3\. Next chapter should be up in a week or so, school is super busy. J xx


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